


Thaumaturgic Antiquity

by RegalMisfortune



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Chapter Lengths Will Vary Depending, Gunther Can And Will Get His Curious Ass Into Everything, Gunther-Centric (oh my god), I Edit As I Go I Am Sorry Too, Incosistent Posting, Magic, Mystery, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Rasmodius Will Grudgingly Try To Keep Said Ass Out Of Any Serious Trouble, So You Can Read This As A Stand-Alone Piece, Some Elements From My Other Story But Not Directly Related, This Is A Self Indulgent Piece I Am Sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-19 07:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12405675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalMisfortune/pseuds/RegalMisfortune
Summary: Tired of working as a professor, Gunther finds himself with the keys to the Pelican Town Library and Museum in the smoke trails of the previous curator who had stolen everything of value and disappeared into the wind.Yet the longer Gunther works in restoring the half library, half museum to its former glory, the more mysterious things he finds that lurk in the shadows of the trees and under the ground beneath his feet. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back (only at great urge to smother it- how can one man cause so much trouble when an entire town lived in blissful ignorance for years?!).





	1. Prologue: Finding a Change in Pace

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello! Welcome to my self-indulgent piece of literature! This is in very little relation to my other Stardew Valley work: Venture Forth and Plant the Seeds of New Beginnings, but I will take some background snippets from it (mostly worldbuilding things), so do not worry if you decide to read one and not the other! Characterization will most likely remain the same, however, so there's that too. 
> 
> If you have any questions or requests, feel free to talk to me on my [tumblr!](http://regalmisfortune.tumblr.com/)

Gunther sighed as he leaned back against the creaking computer chair in his small office, his head tipping so that he eased the tension in his neck. Winter Break was approaching, and with it the need to wrangle together finals, assist in last-minute project details, and politely cajoling panicking students who came through his office door after belatedly realizing that there was naught but a thread’s chance of them ever passing the class after neglecting the semester’s worth of coursework.

Becoming a professor had its perks, provided with ample research opportunities and resources, but going from the thrills of fieldwork overseas to being stuck in the same eight by eight room for hours on end when he wasn’t teaching disinterested young adults or making firm use of the college’s collections, it wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.

He stared up at the ceiling, carefully drumming an old tune between his fingertips as he let his mind wander. Gunther knew that people thought of him as a rather eclectic man, one who’s opinions and moral integrity didn’t quite match up to the colleagues in his field. Many got into archeology for the thrill of finding treasure- and then keeping it to make a profit on the side. It wasn’t like anyone was going to miss it, they claimed.

After his own thoughts fell on deaf ears, Gunther simply left. There was no honor in thievery and destroying another’s historic culture just for some pocket change. It was rude and disrespectful, and so much history was lost forever because they were ill-equipped in taking care of their newfound loot.

But teaching the next generation of discoverers wasn’t as fulfilling as he thought. Most only took the classes to fill in a few credits, and if they did take it out of interest it was because they lived on the ideas of exotic discoveries, delve deep into foreign tombs and find forgotten cities or whatever else they learned from the movies and televisions.

The sad thing was, they’d graduate and become successful smugglers and black-market artifact salespeople, just because that’s where all the money was.

With a deep exhale, Gunther picked himself up off the chair, stretching to crack something in the lower section of his spine before taking an empty mug off his desk and wandering into the hallway towards the breakroom.

It was a small, depressing place with a coffeemaker, a microwave, a sink, and the biggest copier machine that they jammed in there simply because there was no room left in the mailroom to put it in there. Gunther navigated around the copier to the coffeemaker, pouring out the last dredges into his mug.

“You better be making some more,” Lauren, the Ferngill History 101 professor stated as she walked in after him, her heels clicking on the tile as she bumped her hip into the copier before making it safely to the microwave to jam in her frozen meal packet.

Gunther merely hummed, already rinsing out the glass pot in order to refill the machine that kept everyone functioning.

He wasn’t on close terms with the other professors. He greeted them kindly as he should, but for the most part they thought of him as strange like everyone else. Always wearing the same outside, never making the coffee right to their standards, good thing he always kept his office door opened because who knows what he could be doing with his students if it wasn’t. That particular thought always had Gunther rolled his eyes with a slight wrinkle of his nose, casually plucking the newspaper with coffee rings on the front off the counter and folded it open as the microwave hummed.

Apparently he was both young enough and, supposedly, questionably handsome enough to entice some of the more desperate of students. Then again, there had yet to be of any evidence of that outside of the one Organic Chemistry TA whom he had both heard and seen doing “favors” with various students who were in need of a grade boost. He was a valued gridball player on top of being a favored student, so the university kept brushing his reports and concerns under the rug and the TA continued to prowl the hallways as if he owned the place.

It only added to the rumors of himself and his quirky weirdness, he mused.

“Ready for finals?” Lauren finally spoke up as Gunther lifted his mug to his lips, hiding the face he pulled at the rancid taste behind the newspaper.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied, the ceramic hitting laminate countertop with a soft click.

“Ugh.” And Lauren was off, prattling about her ire towards the entire week, that they still had to be available regardless of how there was no classes being conducted during the finals. Gunther hummed at the proper intervals, his eyes peering over the rim of his glasses as he read over the Classifieds. Someone spelled “wanted” as “warnded”- how tragic.

There was one notice that caught his eye, however, as he subtly dumped his cup of coffee into the sink without Lauren noticing. It was barely two lines, a request from a town he wasn’t familiar with looking for someone to man their library/museum. A phone number was provided, but no name. Curious.

“Do you, perchance, know where Pelican Town is?” he inquired, cutting in through Lauren’s one-sided debate with the pros and cons of scantrons.

“Pelican Town?” Lauren wrinkled her powered nose in disgust. “It’s some backwater middle-of-nowhere place on the other side of the Republic. Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious,” Gunther relied simply, folding the paper and tucking it under an arm. “Haven’t been much farther in Ferngill than Jasmine.”

“I forget that you’re a foreigner.” The way Lauren said “foreigner” made his skin crawl, her pretty face turning as ugly as her tone. Ferngill had taken up quite a dislike to anyone outside of their proud country, now that the war with Gotoro Empire was in full swing. It didn’t matter that Gunther himself had come from an island chain as far away from Gotoro as one could get- they were just about the same in Lauren’s eyes.

The microwave chimed, and Lauren busied herself with stirring the contents of her frozen meal. Gunther took the excuse to refill his empty cup with what little fresh coffee the maker had dripped out before making his quiet exit back to his room for some well-needed solitude.

The newspaper crinkled as he set both it and his cup onto his desk, reaching up to pull his glasses off his nose to rub at his eyes. Lauren wasn’t the only one who had some unprecedented distrust regarding him- the school only hired him because he was the only one nearly qualified and interested in the job. But his terms of agreement were only for a year as a bit of a trial run, and it was about to expire as soon as the semester was over. The school had sent him the courtesy email in regard of it earlier in the week, but he had yet to decide whether or not he wanted to continue. He had good enough reviews from student surveys to do so, and there was nothing the university could complain about to keep him from resigning his contracts, but Gunther was tired.

Slipping his spectacles back on, Gunther let his gaze drop to the paper before him. Did he really want to live with this job for five, ten more years? Did he really want to deal with bored students, suspicious and ignorant colleagues, and live in a city that hid its dark face under a mask of beautiful architecture and streets without potholes? He was halfway across the world from where he first started, and while he could easily adapt to change, there was nothing here that enticed his curiosity and made his time feel worthwhile.

Gunther took a sip from his cup, drumming his fingers against the short two lines of text before him. He had fallen into a slump, he realized as he lowered his cup down onto his desk. He was no longer living the thrill of exploration, no longer feeling _alive_. Life had become stagnant as the coffee he was drinking, boring and tiring with handling people who didn’t like him simply because of where he came from and what he wore.

His fingers stopped drumming as his eyes flitted over to the phone resting innocently on his desk. He rarely used it, but his hand lifted it off its cradle and began to punch in the number on the printed paper before him.

It never hurt to inquire.


	2. Chapter 1: A Library in Shambles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gunther visits Pelican Town just days before the Feast of the Winter Star and sees the disaster that his predecessor left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Block-posted prologue and chapter 1!
> 
> If you have any questions or requests, feel free to talk to me on my [tumblr!](http://regalmisfortune.tumblr.com/)

It was three days before the Feast of the Winter Star, and Gunther was standing in the midst of towering oak bookshelves.

Mayor Lewis, whom he had been acquainted on by phone, had been far too enthusiastic at receiving a call at all about the position available, but at the same time very cautious and thorough in the multiple phone interviews. It turned out that the last fellow who worked there had taken the entire museum collection and a good half of the books and fled, with no hint of where he might have gone, and that was at the very end of summer, leaving the library unmanned for an entire season and a half. Gunther had to politely tell Lewis to give him a minute as he pressed the heel of his palms to his eyes and force himself not to get righteously angry over the matter. It seemed even at home the greed persisted in his favored field of study.

Still, in the end, Lewis was hopeful enough in Gunther’s experience to offer him the job. It took less than twenty four hours to turn in his resignation, collect his meager belongings from his office, and leave the university grounds as soon as the last of the finals were graded and posted. Best thing about was that no one else knew other than the poor secretary that will see his resignation in their email after the holidays. They certainly need to scramble in order to get someone else to fill in his position before the spring semester or else things were going to go south in no time at all.

The snow was thick on the ground when he arrived, forgoing actually bringing anything other than the essentials with him while evaluating the situation and the extent of the previous curator’s neglect and abuse of his position. It was a good two day drive across the Republic to get to Zuzu City, and then after a stop at a hotel there, four more hours of driving before finding his way to Stardew Valley, and subsequently, to Pelican Town a little before lunch. He had called ahead when given the chance, and just as he promised, Lewis met him at the road where he parked the car. Apparently there were few places to actually park inside the town proper, not with its historic cobblestone streets and small populace made it relatively self-contained.

“You got a lot of work to do,” Lewis explained as he unlocked the library before taking the key off the ring of other keys and handing it to the man. “Ol’ Kirkwall left it in a right awful state. Anything you can do other than haul it out will make it better than it is already.”

With the snow drifting down onto the tranquil town, Gunther was left in the dusty, neglected building with a clap on the shoulder from the old mayor and a heartfelt “good luck”.

The library had three floors, both of which were broken up into two segments. The first floor was half library, half museum displays left empty and damaged. The shelves were of well-crafted wood, but their contents were half-missing and the ones that weren’t were in such disarray Gunther couldn’t help but give the bookshelves a sympathetic pat. The front desk was also of remarkable craftsmanship, the computer surprisingly left intact. There were small desks and large tables for work and reading, but by and large the space was devoid of anything but unused furniture.

There were some massive windows high above the shelves, Gunther gazed up to watch the snow make their silent descent beyond the glass. There was at least a protective covering on them to block out the more harmful rays, and for that Gunther was grateful.

The catalog system for the books was almost non-existent, and the museum catalog was entirely absent. He took one look at the small filing drawers and shook his head, sliding the drawer shut. He would have to start from scratch, it looked like. What in the world was the old curator thinking? Was anyone?

A thick, dark-stained door led to a flight of stairs that disappeared into the darkness. A simple flip of a switch turned on an ancient light that exposed the hardwood floors at the bottom. The entire basement section turned out to be the storage room for the collections not on display, but it too was in a sorry state as shelves were littered with empty containers and loose labels. He did manage to spy a piece of tiger’s eye that had fallen between two of the shelves, and he ran his fingers over the smooth surface of the polished item with a deep sigh.

He almost missed the stairs that led upward if he hadn’t gone around the furthermost display on the first floor, the steps spiraling upward that creaked underfoot. They led to what turned out to be a very tiny apartment in the sloping ceiling and tight quarters that was the attic. It was barely a fraction of the floor space of the other two floors, added on possibly after the building was first built. There was a kitchen with some old but well taken care of appliances, a bedroom, and a bath that was so narrow he could touch either side of the room when he stretched his arms out. There was a nice window that let in the grey winter skies, and it was surprisingly cozy and warm despite how cool it had been in the bottom two floors.

All in all, Gunther had a lot of work to do.

And so he did, shedding off his coat and hat and placing them on the counter as he unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves. He managed to scrounge up some cleaning products from under the kitchen sink to dust off the tables and chairs enough to begin pulling the books off the shelves, his whistling and soft mumbling monologues the only other sound that accompanied him in his work as he began to organize them out by genre. He would get to alphabetizing them later once he had them all accounted for.

“Who thought putting a romance novel and an informational book side by side?” he muttered, giving the romance novel a look as he held it out as if it was a disgusting rag. “She couldn’t even spell her own character’s name right throughout the entire thing. How positively droll. I’ve read peer reviews less emotionally draining than this.”

He flipped it over, making a soft mock-gasp. “Oh! Exposed pectorals of a fictional man. Such riveting sale tactics. Can already feel my soul leaving my body.”

“Um, excuse me?”

Gunther yelped in shock, nearly tipping back off the small step ladder he was using to reach the upmost shelves. He saved himself by gripping the shelving, but the book took the brunt of his fumbling as it fell from his hands and hit the hardwood floors with a smack.

_“Mordechai preserve me,”_ he whispered out, slipping into his first language as he put a hand to his chest, staring over the rim of his blue tinted glasses at the person who had come in.

“I am so sorry!” the red-haired woman gasped out, her voice soft as she stepped closer in worn boots, leaving a small path of watery footprints as the snow stubbornly clung to the soles. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no, I am fine. Just a little rattled.” Gunther gave what he hoped was a disarming smile, hopping off the ladder and bending down to pick up the book. “Mrs. Jarvis’ _Kiss Me by Moonlight_ has also survived the effects of gravity, which is a profound travesty. Her books would be better off lining the inside of a rodent cage than on a bookshelf. No pride in her work at all.”

There was a very hint of a smile in the corners of the young woman’s lips, which was a bonus in Gunther’s eyes as he returned it with as much warmth as he could, offering a hand out to her after setting the romance novel onto the stack. “Dr. Gunther Conmara. Gunther is perfectly acceptable too.”

Her fingers were cold as she took his hand, her grip delicate as if her very being was made of fragile glass. “Just Penny is fine, sir. I am sorry about scaring you.”

Gunther simply smiled, giving her hand a pat between both of his own. “Couldn’t be any worse than a Blackback Viper falling on my head and right down my collar. Now _that’s_ terrifying. And you, miss, are very cold. What on earth brought you over to this sad little library, if you mind me asking?”

“Mr. Lewis mentioned that the new librarian was here, and I wished to ask you something.” Penny slid her hands from his and folded them before her in a quiet grace that didn’t match the small patches on her dress or the resewn hem of her coat. “You see, there are two children residing in town, both under the age of ten. The nearest school district in Zuzu used to provide a bus service that my mother drove for the students of Stardew Valley, but when it broke down, we no longer had the funds to repair it.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes downcast as she continued.

“With such a little population, and the growing cost of the war, it was… considered more beneficial to teach what little students there were in town. I… took up what I could to teach Jas and Vincent, but the old librarian, Mr. Kirkwall, did not appreciate the children in the building at all and refused to let me teach them here.”

She fretted with a loose thread of her coat’s sleeve, pausing to find the courage to continue talking. Gunther lifted a hand to catch her attention, a silent request for her pause to continue as he spoke, conveying the heartfelt seriousness in his tone.

“What this… Kirkwall… did was inexcusable. From what little that I know, he is a sad, wretched little man with no sense of dignity in the least. I am here to _help_ , regardless of how the reputation of this position proceeds it.  Things are a little… dilapidated at the moment, but you and the children are more than welcome to come in to learn. I will do what I can to assist, if so necessary.”

Penny looked ready to cry at any second, but there was a smile on her face that seemed far too uncommon that it made his heart ache a little for her. Poor girl must be trying so hard to do what was right that she came to beg as soon as she heard he was around. The war affected the outliers much more so than the city folk, always would, and he knew he couldn’t let this injustice stand.

If Kirkwall ever showed his face again, Gunther wasn’t sure if he would keep said face from becoming a mess. How could one man cause so much trouble to a town was beyond him, but by the gods he would do what he could to fix this travesty.

“Thank you,” she whispered, busying her hands in smoothing out the skirt of her dress. “I will try not to be underfoot. May we start in the spring, once you get the library set back up?” From the glance at the shelves, even she had known that the previous system was in entire disaster, relieved in that it was finally going to be fixed.

“I believe I will be done by then,” Gunther hummed, turning to fold his arms as he looked at the work he previously accomplished that was sitting in massive stacks on the table. “Well, in a sense that will make some sense in functionality. Perhaps even the book catalog getting worked on too. Goodness knows this place will need it. How it functioned at all is beyond me. Just thinking about it is giving me grey hairs.”

From the way Penny turned her head over to him, Gunther knew that she had more faith in him than anyone else back at the university ever did.

Things could only look up from here.            


	3. Chapter 2: Sootsprites in the Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gunther meets two other townsfolk, on top of something else tickling his interests as it drops right in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions or requests, feel free to talk to me on my [tumblr!](http://regalmisfortune.tumblr.com/)

Gunther wished he wasn’t so much of a recluse as he gazed sadly into the mostly empty bag of trail mix.

It was the eve of the Feast of the Winter Star, and the snow had come down so hard the day before that Gunther found himself staying longer than he expected. The small attic apartment had been warm enough, but the basement had become positively frigid, the cold seeping through the hardwood planks of the library floor and rattled the glass of the large windows.  

He really needed to ask about a budget with Lewis, to see if he could afford to get the windows and their seals inspected come spring. It really should’ve been done before snowfall, but he was no time-travelling miracle worker, so he would simply have to make do. Even if he hesitated in taking his shoes off in fear of finding toes missing.

Because of the snow, Gunther had all but hidden away inside the library. Other than Penny, who hadn’t been back since her initial visit, no one else stopped by, perhaps not even realizing he was still there. Most people would have gone home if they were away, or even visit their new job after the holidays in favor of staying indoors, but Gunther was raised far from the expectations of Ferngillian holidays and their devotion to Yoba. Not that he was particularly spiritual, more on the lines of casual because who knew when he would need help from a higher being. He was sure they understood that mortal life was a bit too hectic to pester them all the time.

It was simply another day for him. Much like his birthday, for that matter, but that was entirely different topic all together.

Still, this overstay had found Gunther with a bit of a snag, picking through the multitude of raisins to salvage the last of the chocolate bits at the bottom of the bag. His usual amount of snacks was on the verge of becoming non-existent, and he wasn’t sure if Pelican Town even _had_ a place where he could eat. He was pretty certain he spotted the familiar depressing blue of Joja in the midst of snow when he first came in, but he wasn’t feeling like walking that far up river in the snow to get some bruised produce and frozen meals. He didn’t want to go out at _all_ unless it was to shovel off his car and make the long journey back to the city he called home for a year.

He let out a sigh as he popped the piece of chocolate into his mouth, wincing at the unexpected taste of raisin instead of the silky dark chocolate he had been aiming for. They all looked the same after a while, he mused, setting the bag down onto the counter to gaze over the disaster that was the library.

Surprisingly, he had made some decent progress in the short time he had. Then again, this was all he was focusing on for the past day or two, only crashing when his eyes started to hurt and his lungs were more dust than air. Still, he had gotten all the books organized by genre, half of those already sorted out by author and set onto their corresponding shelves that he admittedly labeled with sticky notes until he could whisk up something proper. The catalog would have to wait until he had the correct cards and labeling system, which wouldn’t be until he got back to his apartment and made some orders.

His thoughts were sent astray as something dark dropped from the ceiling into his field of vision. An impressive mixture of a yell and a curse left his mouth before Gunther could even think about it, instinctively snapping both hands down and crushing whatever it had been between his palms.

That proved to be a big mistake, as the force of the action caused a black cloud of dust directly into his face just as the door banged open, the chilly winter air instantly seeping through his clothes.

Time froze for a moment as Gunther stared at his soot-covered hands over his glasses, still clasped together, before he turned his head to the burly man and a blue-haired woman standing in his doorway.

“It _exploded_!” he whispered, his voice thick with horrified awe. The large man lost it as he laughed, booming in the mostly empty space as the woman clamped a hand to her mouth, eyes glittering as she made her way around her companion and setting a paper bag with something that smelled absolutely _divine_ onto the counter in order to rummage through it for napkins.

“Now _that_ is what I call an introduction!” the man stated, his voice deep like the drum of his belly as he finally stepped out of the doorway in order to shut the door behind him. “See you’ve found yourself a sootsprite.”

“A _what_?”

“They’re little creatures composed almost entirely of dust and soot,” the blue-haired woman replied easily, handing him a small pile of napkins that were still warm from their journey in the paper bag. “No one really knows, to be honest. Demetrius keeps trying to catch one but they turn to soot as soon as he tries. They live in the mines mostly, you see, but they sometimes come up where it’s warmer in basements.”

“I’d check to see if you have an infestation,” the man rumbled, his impressive mustache shivering as he sniffed. “They can cause a right mess.”

“Ah.” They must be some sort of local creature, strange as they sounded. Couldn’t be any stranger than frogs that could turn invisible or scorpions that could shoot their stingers like a bullet. _That_ was terrifying. A ball of living dust shouldn’t be too bad- as long as they didn’t smother him in his sleep. Still, he felt a little bad for snuffing out this one out just because he had been startled. Most likely came in because it was cold outside. He just hoped no other came tumbling down from the rafters to give him a fright. It still made him _curious_ , wondering about what other creatures lived in Stardew Valley. Were they different than that on the other side of the country? Were they so sheltered here that they developed their own species? It was all so very _intriguing._

“I’m Dr. Gunther Conmara, by the way,” Gunther set the dirty napkin down, offering a much cleaner hand out to both of them with a kind smile. “Or, just Gunther will do.”

“Emily,” the woman- Emily- answered with a charming smile, taking the offered hand. “You have mystical eyes and you have a presence of pleasant curiosity.”

Gunther froze, staring at her as Emily slid her away from his hand as the large barrel of a man laughed, slapping him hard on the back enough to make his glasses nearly slide entirely off the end of his nose to expose more of his "mystical" eyes as she called them. She simply continued to observe his golden eyes as if they contained the secrets of the world, an odd smile playing in the corners of her lips.

“Don’t mind her. She’s a bit of a fae child, that one. Name’s Gus. I run The Stardrop Saloon. Mayor Lewis mentioned you came by, but don’t think anyone realized you were still here until Marnie came in earlier today asking about the light in the library.”

His eyes slid to the sad excuse of trail mix remaining in the bag on the counter. “Well, at least I know what you’ve been eating. Not a filling thing, eating nuts and berries. You need something heartier in the cold like this.”

Gus nodded his head towards the bag, and Gunther was far too curious and polite to say no as he graciously picked it up to peek inside, visibly perking as the scent of warm food hit his nose.

“Oh! Thank you!” It was a wrapped sandwich on top of a bowl of soup, the plastic bowl covered with a little lid. It had the look of a potato and leek soup. The sandwich was wrapped up, and turned out to be something with more bacon than bread, but looked mighty good all the same. He could never say no to an offering of food no matter what it was. “You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“Can’t say no to making a new customer,” Emily answered, her voice dropping in false likeness to Gus. Gus shot her a disgruntled look as she smiled innocently up at him. “Besides, it gives us an excuse to escape the Evening Service.”

That caused Gunther to jerk his head up from pulling out plastic silverware from the bag, blinking at Gus in mild surprise. “There’s a priest out here?”

Gus grunted, rolling his eyes.

“No. The more religious townsfolk gather in the chapel and do a few prayers and things. Very small and casual, but Mayor Lewis tries to promote attendance because it builds community. Not everyone’s a devout worshiper.”

Gunther felt his shoulders slump, the tenseness he didn’t know he had easing out of his muscles while his hands cracked open the lid to the soup.

“That’s good,” he breathed out. “Priests of Yoba and I don’t tend to get along.” Mostly because once they find out he believed in a Pantheon and not just one deity, they take it as some sort of challenge to convert a “supposed heathen”, no matter how loose his own personal stock in his beliefs were. It was all bizarre, and would be amusing if they weren’t so annoying about it. He barely took the time to tend to his own Patron- why would he be any different if he switched? He wasn’t hurting anyone, so why did it matter?

He got a comforting, understanding pat by Emily, her eyes filled with recognition and honesty. “They make me uncomfortable too,” she replied. “They don’t know what to do when a free-spirit appears into their midst and sees how dull their auras are. Fortunately the last fellow that came by was years ago. We don’t have to worry about them now.”

Gunther simply nodded, not wanting to question the quirkiness that was obviously the blue-haired girl as he popped a spoonful of soup into his mouth, making a quiet sound of surprise in the back of his throat as soon as he had the chance to swallow.

“Oh, this _is_ good!”

And proceeded to shovel the rest of it into his mouth at blinding speed, causing Gus to fill the library with his boisterous laughter and Emily’s giggling.

In all, it was one of the better Winter Star’s Eves he had experienced.


	4. Chapter 3: Figurines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring has arrived, and Gunther had permanently settled into the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this before I went to work, so I'm sorry for any mistakes! c:
> 
> Also thank you for all your comments and support so far! Love you!

Winter melted into spring, and Gunther found himself moving the last of his things into the front of the library from the back of his car.

He had taken the long trip back home the day of the Feast of the Winter Star, as the snow finally lifted and the roads were clear. He had made sure that all the lights were off and the door locked behind him before he made the trudging clime through the snow to his vehicle and cleared it off. He hadn’t known that Lewis had come looking for him right afterwards, not until he returned with a message on his phone from the older man, saying his good tidings and safe travels, but silent disappointment in Gunther not being able to meet everyone else in the town during their annual community-wide feast.

Gunther was never particularly fond of parties anyway, even if there was free food.

The rest of the season was spent ordering supplies, refreshing his memory on proper book cataloging, and packing. He moved around far too much to collect any large pieces of furniture- the only thing present was an old mahogany one stained a dark color. It had some dings and dents in it, but he made sure to keep the rest of it in good condition despite its age and misuse.

Most of his other things were small trinkets- usually things bought from locals that piqued his fancy with their craftsmanship and careful artistic designs. He had quite a few cups of various sizes and colors, both from china and blown glass, and several figurines carved from stone or cast in metal. A few masks, some ornate shawls gifted to him, and a pair of woolly socks that kept his toes from freezing off when the heat kicked off and wouldn’t turn back on.

All in all, it wasn’t much, but Gunther was a simple man. As long as he was kept busy and always learning, it didn’t matter to him that he didn’t have much in ways of material goods.

What he had, in total, could entirely fit into the massive dresser, and that’s what he had done after wrapping up the breakables in his clothes and old newspapers. He didn’t have to worry about any of it falling over or breaking during the several-day trip from one end of the nation to the other, and it was easy to just take the entire drawer out and carry them one by one until the shell of the dresser remained before hauling that in too.

It was impossible to forget how heavy it was even after the drawers were taken out.

He let out a sigh as he fanned himself with his hat, smiling at the small collection of boxes that were waiting for him on the front counter. It seemed that Lewis had taken whatever orders he had and put them inside. For that Gunther was grateful.

He left the front door open to let the warm spring breeze filter in through the stagnant air of the library, leaving his hat and coat on top of the packages as he carried each drawer carefully up the spiraled steps to the small living space up above. He stopped at the top, however, blinking over at the small bedroom.

“I didn’t know I had a quilt,” he murmured to himself, setting down the drawer onto the kitchen counter before peeking at the bed. It had a magnificent, hand-stitched quilt, the blankets tucked in and pillows fluffed. Someone had taken the time to spruce up the place in his absence, caring in cleaning the dust and polishing the windows. A smile crept into the corners of his lips as Gunther smoothed his fingers over the colorful geometric patterns of fabric, oddly touched by the kind gesture.

Something on the library floor below hit the hardwood with a heavy thump. Gunther jerked his head up in surprise, his footsteps quiet as he descended down the stairs and through the bookshelves. Not-so-hushed whispers perked his ears as he drew closer, stepping out from between the shelving to get a look at the entryway.

Two children stood beside one of the desk drawers, one of his metal figurines fished out of its nest of fabric and paper and on the floor as the small boy hurried to pick it up.

“I _told_ you not to touch it!” a dark-haired girl hissed, stomping her foot a little.

“You wanted to see it too!” the boy replied, his lip protruding out a little as he turned the serpentine creature over in his hands. “See? It didn’t break!”

“Only something more than a little fall could bring _Lautez_ down,” Gunther said, trying to hide a smile as the two children whipped their heads around, the boy almost dropping the figurine all over again, their faces turning a few shades paler as their eyes widened.

“No need to get worried,” Gunther consoled them, kneeling down before them as he held an open palm out to the boy to take the small decoration. “No harm has been done. You’re only curious.”

“Sorry sir,” the boy mumbled, a tooth missing in the front row now that Gunther could see his face more clearly. He passed the figurine over to Gunther, shifting from foot to foot as the librarian turned the metal piece over in his hands, laying out the spine-backed dragon-like serpent on his palm.  

“Did you know that some people believe that _Lautez_ exists?” he told the two children as they leaned closer. “It lurks in around the Islands of Leon, deep in the dark abyss of the sea trenches.”

“Does it eat people?” the boy asked, the guilt and fear melting into childish awe and curiosity.

“Sometimes,” Gunther chuckled. “Only if they deserve it, though.”

“Ooooh!”

Gunther couldn’t help but smile, and began to show them the other figurines he had, carefully unwrapping them as he explained a little of each one. He let the children hold onto the metal ones, but the glass and porcelain ones were carefully placed onto the counter after he moved the packages to the floor behind it.

“Does _this_ one eat people?” the boy- Vincent, as Gunther had found out, asked, holding up a wolf-like creature with two heads and a spiked tail.

“That one definitely does,” Gunther let out a small laugh. “You certainly like the man-eaters.”

“That’s because they’re cool!”

“Yeah!” the girl, Jas, joined in, holding onto a figurine that was a cross between a cat and a ferret.

“What morbid children you are!” Gunther grinned, even as the two children beamed at him.

“There you two are!”

The unfamiliar voice made Gunther turn his head while Vincent gasped, rushing over to the woman as he held up his figurine.

“Mom! Look what Prof’ser Gunther has!”

The woman sighed, but there was a smile on her lips.

“It is very nice, Vincent, but you should give it back to him now.”

“Okay…”

The boy trudged back, reluctant in returning the items to Gunther, but he merely smiled and waited for Vincent, gently setting them back onto the counter with the others when he did so.

“I apologize for keeping the children. It must be getting towards lunch.”

As if summoned by his words, stomachs began growling and both children flushed.

“It’s no trouble at all. I am glad they hadn’t gotten dirty trying to catch tadpoles again,” the woman replied. “Oh! I am Jodi, by the way. I’ve seen you’ve met my son, Vincent, and his friend Jas. Penny had mentioned that you are willing to open the library up for their schooling.”

“I am! This place was a right disaster in prior hands, so I’ve heard. It is the least I can do to make things right.”

“Does that mean Miss Penny isn’t teaching anymore?”

Both Vincent and Jas looked so downright _hurt_ that Gunther had to kneel down again to put his hands on their heads.

“No no. She’s still will be teaching you. You will simply be taught here, and that I will assist whenever it is necessary.”

The children were placated with that, beaming as they ran off outside, Vincent yelling about lunch and Jas scolding him for being noisy while at the same time laughing. Gunther chuckled, pushing himself back up to stand and brushing the dust off his knees.

“You are good with children,” Jodi said suddenly, drawing his attention to her. She was looking at him, a passive, yet unreadable expression on her face.

“Well, college students are just like youngsters, only bigger and do bolder things,” he shrugged with a smile. “A little imagination never hurt anyone.”

Jodi’s expression softened to a gentle smile. “You are different than Mr. Kirkwall,” she said softly. “I’m glad.”

With that she politely excused herself out the door, leaving Gunther alone in the library with his figurines.

He huffed out a small laugh from between his lips, running his fingers over his small collection with fondness.

It would be fascinating to see creatures of lore alive and well, but Pelican Town seemed like a quiet little place. Yet there was something under the surface, tickling the back of his mind with intrigue.

Perhaps he would learn after settling in. First things’ first.


End file.
